


Valentine's Day

by winglessdrake



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Bad Poetry, Gen, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:08:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winglessdrake/pseuds/winglessdrake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Valentine's Day gift exchange doesn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day

This morning  
I cut out my heart  
and pinned it to your door.

It wasn't easy.  
I used the strongest and sharpest knife I could afford  
from the shop at the mall with all the swords  
and little dragons and wizards in a glass case by the door.  
It sliced through my breast like butter, all right  
(I don't think I'll ever get the bloodstains out of my kitchen floor)  
but lodged in my breastbone  
and stuck tight.

I had to call my best friend for help.  
She thought I was crazy, but agreed  
to help me anyway.  
(She really is the best of friends; I don't know what I'd do  
without her.)  
She sawed away at the bone in my chest  
like a recalcitrant lock holding a treasure chest closed  
until finally it opened wide  
and my heart fell out  
onto my kitchen table.

It didn't look like much, lying there.  
A little small, and grey  
not at all the bright Valentine's Day red I'd imagined.  
The knife had knicked it in one corner;  
I felt bad about giving you damaged goods.  
But it was the only heart I had to give  
so I hoped you'd like it anyway.

I don't really remember the trip to your house very well.  
Blood loss will do that to you.  
My friend had to help me out of the car  
but I insisted on walking up to your door myself.

I'd had the pin made special  
just for you.  
It was long and sharp  
(sharp enough to send a princess to sleep)  
and silver.  
I pinned my heart to your door  
(it made me feel a little queasy)  
and went back to the car to wait.

I wondered what you'd do with my heart  
when you found it.  
Would you scream and cry  
horrified  
or would you laugh in scorn  
or joy?  
Would you give it back to me with a sympathetic smile  
or keep it by your own  
beating in perfect time?  
I didn't even dare to hope  
you'd give me yours in exchange  
even though my chest felt so empty without a heart inside.  
Just knowing you were keeping it safe would have been enough for me.

I felt nothing when you finally opened your door  
but only because I had no heart to leap into my throat  
or plunge into my stomach  
and stir up the butterflies.

Maybe that's why it didn't hurt when you just walked on by.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to state for the record that I wrote this in approximately twenty minutes after going through a painful break up. Apparently my chosen coping mechanism was poking fun at my pain through over-the-top poetry and gorey imagery. It beats slashing my wrists, I guess. [g]
> 
> Also I was totally riffing off that short story/comic Neil Gaiman wrote about Harlequin. Points to anyone who knows what I'm talking about.


End file.
